


Guard Duty

by 391780 (goblinparty)



Series: Cold Wind [13]
Category: Fargo (2014)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 05:22:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2217321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goblinparty/pseuds/391780
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Numbers hated doing security...Security was a lot of nothing, just sitting around and waiting for everything to go ornery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guard Duty

 Wrench watched as a big black Escalade with dark tinted windows parked in front of the loading bay, and tapped his partner on the shoulder. Numbers turned around, keeping a careful eye on the men climbing out of the car, hand on the weapon in his pocket. Wrench had drawn himself up to his full height next to him, arms crossed, creating an intimidating spectacle. A large Slavic man in a suit approached, followed by goons in tracksuits.

“Good evening, Mr. Reno. Our boss is expecting you.” The man in the suit nodded sharply, ignoring Number's winning smile and staring at Wrench, and Numbers led him and his entourage into the building. No one said a word the whole way to Fargo's office, the sounds of heavy footsteps on thin carpet rumbling down the halls. Outside the door, they could hear the Aussie prattling away, his story going a million miles per hour. Numbers knocked, and it became very silent.

“Enter.”

Numbers opened the door, showing in Mr. Reno. The two bosses nodded to one another in silence.

“All of you wait outside until we're done. Make sure we are not disturbed.” Fargo waved a hand absentmindedly, and the Aussie quickly exited the room. Numbers closed the door behind him, and looked to his partner.

 _Guard duty tonight._ Wrench pulled a face, and Numbers had to keep from laughing. Numbers hated doing security details just as much as Wrench. It was honestly the most boring part of their job. He was much happier chasing after people, terrorizing them, hiding bodies, maybe even doing a break in. Security was a lot of nothing, just sitting around and waiting for everything to go ornery. Both men briskly walked behind the sea of tracksuits, listening to them mumble lowly to each other in a language he couldn't identify. When they got to the loading dock again, Numbers went to the mini fridge the guys had hidden behind some empty boxes, pulling a few beers out and tossing one to Wrench.

“Oi! Got one for me?” Numbers threw a can of beer to the Aussie, throwing it as hard and fast as he could right at the man's head. Wrench belly laughed as the Aussie ducked and yelped, the can hitting the back wall and exploding with a wet, carbonated hiss. Reno's men, who were grouped together away from them, stared in silence over their cigarettes.

“Just kidding, man. Couldn't resist.” Numbers handed the Aussie a beer.

“Nearly took my fucking head off!”

“Nah, you'dve been fine. Missing a few teeth, maybe, but fine.” The Aussie scowled as Numbers grinned. He like the Aussie, really he did, but it was just _so_ much fun to mess with him. The three men from Fargo sat on the concrete ledge of the loading dock, feet dangling over the edge, smoking and drinking their beers. Wrench tapped Numbers' knee.

_Ask the chatterbox how long we're supposed to freeze out here._

“How long do you think they'll be?”  
“Dunno. Lots to talk about. Like that package Fargo picked up while you two dollies were playing house. Very secret, which means very big you know.” He sipped his beer. “Go on, translate away.” He waved his hand dismissively.

 _He doesn't know._ Wrench sighed. It was cold and not knowing when they could go home and get warm was, at the very least, aggravating. He got up and went back to the mini fridge, pulling out the last beer and cracking it open. He could see the Aussie gesturing wildly, probably in the middle of a story Numbers had heard a million times. He watched Numbers take a long drag on his cigarette, looking entirely unamused by whatever story he was being regaled with. As Wrench approached, Numbers looked to him with an exasperated look.

_I might actually go through with it and crush his skull with a beer._

_I'm pretty sure I'm drinking the last one._

_Fuck. OK. Remind me tomorrow to refill it, I'm pretty sure it's my turn._

_So you're not gonna bash **my** skull in?_

_Nah, if I kill you then I'd be forced to hang out with the rest of these idiots. I'll take you over them any day._

Wrench couldn't help but smile. There was something really nice about being loved by someone who hated absolutely everyone and everything. He watched the Aussie watching them, sipping his beer with eyebrows slightly raised. If he'd ever suspected anything was going on between Wrench and his partner, he'd never said a word to anyone, which pretty much meant he didn't suspect anything. The Aussie tapped Numbers' shoulder with his beer can.

“Those blokes been lookin' standoffish. Think we ought to worry?” The Aussie seemed nervous. Numbers looked over to the herd of tracksuits. They were huddled in a circle, smoking and laughing to themselves, occasionally glancing their way and then back to the Escalade. Numbers noticed a man still sitting in the car, but the tinted windows obscured his features.

“Just keep an eye on 'em. Does the boss expect trouble?”  
“Nah, but you never know. Fucking desert-dwelling Slavs, can't tell if they hate us or are just pissy from the long car ride.” Wrench tapped Numbers.

 _You think they dress like a high school basketball team because Reno makes them, or because they just always want to be ready for pick up basketball?_ Numbers snorted.

“What'd he say?”  
“He wanted to know if that was their uniform or if they were just coming from basketball practice.” the Aussie laughed loudly, garnering grumpy looking stares from the Slavs.

“Funny guy, Wrench. Ask if he's learned to barbeque properly yet. I've seen the shit he calls barbeque and it's a disgrace.”

_He's talking shit about your grilling skills._

_Tell that wombat he doesn't know what he's talking about!_

_I'm not getting into this! You two can fight this out on your own!_

_I don't have any paper!_

_I don't care!_

Wrench flipped off the Aussie, who mirrored the gesture with a laugh.

The door behind them opened, and Reno and Fargo walked out onto the bay. Both men were entirely stone-faced and unreadable, but Wrench noticed Reno staring at him.

“Make sure the alley is clear for our guests.” Fargo nodded to Numbers, who was trailed down the alley by Wrench and the Aussie. The Slavs all piled into the car, doors slamming behind Numbers. The Aussie and Wrench walked ahead, peering down the connecting streets, and Numbers heard footsteps approaching behind him. He turned and saw.... Wrench? His face and build were carbon copies of Numbers' partner, but instead of thick sideburns, he had a thick mustache and goatee that made Numbers think of a ginger Col. Sanders.

Wrench headed back down the alley, and froze when he saw the man standing with Numbers. It had been at least a decade since he had seen his brother, and time had only made him taller. He looked almost exactly the same. He felt his breath catch in his stomach.

 _Hey kiddo. Long time since S-i-o-u-x-f-a-l-l-s._ Dale's hands moved stiffly, obviously out of practice.

“Hammer!” barked Reno, climbing into the car.

Dale signed out a quick s _ee you around_ , and headed back to the car.

“Holy fucking shit. You see that bloke? Got Wrench's fucking fa- **oof**!” Numbers strode up quickly and punched the Aussie in hard in the gut, shutting him up and sending him to his knees.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut about this or I'll mail your head to your mother, understand? You tell anyone, and I'll know. Get me?” Numbers hissed into his ear. The Aussie wheezed out a chuckle.

“Your bit don't scare me. But I get it. Mum's the word. Blimey, you hit hard for a little guy.”

Numbers turned his attention to Wrench, who watched the SUV drive away with wide, sad eyes.

“Mr. Jergen, stop playing in the snow. You and I still have work to do.” Fargo turned and went back inside, and the Aussie followed suit, brushing snow off his clothes and throwing Wrench and Numbers a suspicious look as he left.

Numbers cautiously approached his partner, who looked like a lost puppy in the snow.

_Are you OK?_

_I don't know. Fargo knows about him now, but he's with Reno, so maybe he's safe?_ Numbers nodded, declining to mention that few people in their line of work were ever truly safe. A silent tear slid down Wrench's cheek, spilling into the snow before he had noticed it was even there. He sniffed, and suddenly chuckled into his fist.

_That fucking mustache is the most hideous thing I have ever seen._

_I will never make fun of your sideburns again._

_I'm gonna need that in writing._

Both men stared at their feet, unsure what to say about the events that transpired.

 _I wish you'd had more time with him._ Numbers signed suddenly.

 _You're sweet. Thank you._ Wrench reached out and squeezed his shoulder, wishing he could just hold and kiss his partner.

_Tell anyone and I'll kill you._

_Hardass._ Wrench chuckled again, then became serious. _Do you think we'll see him again?_

_I think so. If Fargo and Reno are doing business, this won't be the last meeting. If there's more meetings, they're probably staying in town. If you want, when Fargo lets us off for the night, we can try to find the C-a-d-d-y and maybe get you two some alone time._

_Yeah, that sounds good._ Wrench nodded thoughtfully, then stopped abruptly, looking sad again. _I wish I could tell him about you. About us._

_You can't._

_I know, but he's my brother. My family. You're my family, too. I just..._ his hands hung in the air motionless for a moment, then fell, defeated. Numbers didn't know what to say. He was never very good at this sort of thing, and wished he had the words to make his partner feel better. Both men stood awkwardly in the cold and dark, looking to one another, desperate to comfort and be comforted but unable to do so, wondering what exactly this new turn of events would bring upon them.

 

 

 


End file.
